


Springs and Wolves

by ravenclawkohai



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Delusions, Hallucinations, M/M, Paranoia, Psychosis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkohai/pseuds/ravenclawkohai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud falls into a mako spring and develops psychotic features as a result. He does his best to cope while chasing his dream of becoming a SOLDIER.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What did I tell you?” Ms. Strife asked.

“Never play near the springs,” Cloud mumbled through gritted teeth.

“That’s right—never near the mako springs,” she said, rubbing a towel over her son, trying to dry him and praying that the shower he had taken was good enough to rinse away the mako. “What happened to the stray dog that fell in last time?”

“He died,” Cloud said, voice getting smaller as he looked down, guilt written across his face.

“He died, and you’re lucky you don’t seem to be going the same way,” she said. She folded the towel she had been using, dumping it into a bag to be burned later, just in case it had picked up any mako. “Go put on some dry clothes and go to bed.”

“Yes Ma,” he said, eagerly taking the excuse to avoid his mother and another scolding. He fell asleep quickly, exhausted from his trying day. Cloud and his mother quickly forgot the incident as the weeks passed and Cloud didn’t show any symptoms.

Rather, Cloud didn’t tell his mother about any symptoms. It was better not to tell her, he thought; she had enough to worry about with the rough winter they were having. It wasn’t like anything was really wrong, so he might as well keep them to himself rather than having anyone worry about him. It wasn’t like they could take back his clumsy fall in the mako springs, no one could really fix that, and if they couldn’t make it better, why bother anyone at all about it?

Cloud, like every other person in Nibelheim, was familiar with the local wildlife. Parts of the mountains were off limits because the dragons liked to nest in them. Never take on one of the Nibel wolves by yourself or without weapons. Certain mountain paths were perpetually iced over and were to be avoided. Some types of nuts were safe to eat if you could recognize them, but all berries were deadly. Living in Nibelheim meant having a slew of tips and tricks to help the villagers survive in the harsh local climate.

Like the other villagers, if he crossed paths with a Nibel wolf, he was perfectly able to tell pup to mother to father. That was why, when one crossed his path, Cloud was immediately confused. This wolf was huge, larger than any he had seen or even heard of. There were no howls that would have warned him to stay away or race back home. When it stepped into his path, it didn’t growl, its hackles didn’t raise, it didn’t bare its teeth. It walked calmly to the center of the path and sat there, eyes locked on Cloud’s. Cloud took a hesitant step backward, preparing to run the second the wolf made any threatening movements.

The wolf saw the step, saw the look in Cloud’s eyes, and laughed.

He froze in his tracks.

“A little jumpy, aren’t we?” the wolf said.

“You—but—how—”

The wolf grinned.

“You didn’t really think everything was going to be normal after your little mako dip, did you?”

If could had been unsure that this wolf wasn’t entirely real before, he was sure now.

“So… you’re in my head?”

“Ah, and the boy starts to think.”

Cloud pursed his lips, aiming for threatening but hitting an irritated pout.

“Are you going to follow me into town?” Cloud asked

“I’m always going to be following you,” the wolf said. “I’m in your head—where else would I go?”

Cloud pouted again, earning himself another edged smile from the wolf.

He took a hesitant step backwards. Took a few more. He turned slowly, watching the immobile wolf, then started walking back to town. The wolf took a few loping steps to catch up and began walking at Cloud’s side. They walked the whole way back to town like that, a tense, awkward silence holding over them. Cloud stalled the best he could, but when they came to the final slope back into town, he stopped and turned toward the wolf.

“So no one’s going to be able to see you? And you’re just going to follow me around?” he asked, expecting the eerily sarcastic animal to offer more of its dry wisdom.

It failed to provide.

“I’m in your head, why would anyone else see me?” it said.

“I don’t know, it’s not like I have a rulebook for this,” Cloud said, the pout returning. “What about following me?”

“Hell if I know. We’ll just have to make it up as we go, won’t we?”

The pout grew.

“How about we start slow and get you home before you can get into more trouble,” it said.

“You sounds like my mother,” Cloud grumbled under his breath and continued toward town, pointedly ignoring the wolf’s smug look.

Cloud was both relieved and nervous as he entered the house, calling, “Ma?” into the quiet house. He toed his shoes off at the door and walked further into the house.

“There you are, I was worried I would have to send someone out after you,” she said, rounding the kitchen walls into the main space of the house. She came over, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer to kiss the top of his head, earning her a beleaguered, “Maaaaaa,” from her son. As she pulled away, going back to the kitchen and calling back to him, she mentioned something about dinner.

“Sounds great Ma,” Cloud called, looking to his left where the wolf was sitting back on its haunches.

“I guess that solves that, now doesn’t it,” it said.

“Just don’t cause any trouble,” he mumbled to it.

“What was that?” his mother called from the kitchen.

“Nothing Ma!” he called before scowling at the wolf that seemed to be having a hard time not laughing.

The evening was completely uneventful. They had dinner. Ms. Strife settled onto their couch with a book. Cloud mentioned schoolwork and left without further questioning. The wolf followed him into his bedroom, jumping onto Cloud’s bed and taking the majority of the room as it settled down. Cloud shifted too many times, trying to get comfortable despite the wolf taking up so much room. With a smug look in its eyes, it rested its chin on its paws.

“Well, it seems that if you don’t talk to me, no one would know I’m here,” it said.

“Right. Ignoring a giant wolf isn’t distracting at all.”

“Live and learn, Cloud. You’ll figure something out.”

“You’re really unhelpful, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me, I only know what you know yourself.”

Cloud, refusing to acknowledge his defeat, flicked off the light switch before he could dig himself into a deeper hole.

Cloud and the wolf, which obstinately refused to be named Fluffy and remained nameless, quickly learned to adapt. Cloud slept curled next to it, its body heat keeping him warmer. It fed Cloud recovery responses when Cloud slipped and spoke to or with the wolf, the given answers helping the townspeople turn a blind eye.

When the walls began to bend and the floor took to sliding, Cloud tightened his hand on the wolf’s fur coat, guiding him through a world that refused to stay still. The first time that happened, Cloud quickly learned that he got motion sickness easily. The wolf learned to dodge any on-coming vomit.

When he felt bugs crawling over him in the dead of winter, the wolf growled quietly, low in its throat, the vibrations giving Cloud another tactile sensation to focus on.

When he first started hearing other voices, it made lighthearted conversation and successfully distracted Cloud long enough to calm down and avoid a panic attack.

When he started hearing different voices, ones far less kind, it failed to remove them. Instead, it talked over them, offering reassurance, and did its best to comfort Cloud once the fearful tears had come.

The two formed a partnership. While the wolf was not always there, if Cloud called with enough determination, it never failed to appear. It took years for the two to forge that bond, but by the time Cloud realized what his dream was, the two didn’t need to communicate verbally. Cloud never had to ask for help with the wolf already in action, predicting his needs and immediately providing help. Before he took any action, the wolf grilled him about how much he truly wanted this and what it would cost versus what he would gain. It took nights and nights of the two debating near dawn for the wolf to approve, but it was worth it for Cloud to have the support of his closest friend.

In Nibelheim, he was the quiet weirdo who talked to himself and, subsequently, got teased and bullied. To that town, he was the mako freak and nothing more. The lack of good gossip in such a small village made Cloud a target long passed when the townsfolk should have moved on. It took years and years to get it under control, but he knew how to blend in now. With the wolf’s help and all that practice, no one would know Cloud was anything other than a normal boy, not unless they were told. It had been a huge point in their argument about attempting to become a SOLDIER; he would be able to leave the “mako freak” label behind in a big city like Midgar. He could start over and do it right this time.

Luckily, they had enough practice pretending that Cloud wasn’t hallucinating that when it came to starting over, do or die, he passed with flying colors. The initial psych evaluation only required basic lying with a straight face. Lying to the other cadets and the SOLDIER program’s teachers took more effort and concentration to pull off, but it wasn’t impossible. In fact, Cloud was fairly certain that if he didn’t have spectacularly bad luck, he could have made it through the program and the second, more difficult psych evaluation. Unfortunately, his lucky was as bad as his clumsiness had been when he stumbled into that mako spring.

For Cloud, full-blown, intensive episodes came few and far between. They had always been the hardest to bluff his way through, and he frankly wasn’t ever able to thinking of an excuse that an onlooker would buy. When he had his first episode in Midgar, he had too few safe spaces where he could hide and ride out the episode without being caught. The best he could come up with was making a break for the showers the second it started. He made it all the way into the bathroom, into the shower, without incident. He slumped against a wall, sliding down it to sit on the floor, his clothes slowly getting soaked in lukewarm water. There was little the wolf could do to help, Cloud already becoming too focused on everything else to provide a distraction that would work.

Everything came all at once with an intensity that made it just unbearable enough that Cloud stayed frozen in his spot on the tiled floor, unable to do more than experience the twisted, knotted, incorrect reality around him. A presence, full of hate and malicious intent, hovered over his shoulders, as if the wall behind him wasn’t there. The voices were a garbled mess, each one attempting to talk over the next; the words he did catch were smug and mocking. Cloud shut his eyes tight as the world began to twist and bend, hoping to fend off the motion sickness as well as prevent more visuals that weren’t truly there. In his slowly increasing panic, the anxiety presented as sharp static just under his skin. Hands wrapped around his neck, not choking yet certainly not comfortable. Cloud pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, desperate to shut out the unreal stimulation.

Cloud was fighting a losing battle with no quick ending in sight. Between his useless efforts to tune out the hallucinations, he easily lost track of the real world around him, right up until a hand fell on his shoulder. Cloud pressed back against the wall behind him, realizing now that there was no escape route, fear sank like a lead weight in his gut.

Of all people to find him like this, did it have to be a SOLDIER Second Class, much less Zack Fair?

“Easy, kid,” Zack said, leaning backward into his own space, raising his hands innocently in the air.

Cloud bit the inside of his cheek, giving Zack a panicked, wide eyed stare. What if he wasn’t real? What if he was real and reported the episode? Shinra’s mass army would take him, but his dreams of become a SOLDIER would be dashed if Zack told anyone. Considering that Zack seemed to be the only one remotely close to SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth, The General, all he had to do was mention it to Sephiroth and Cloud’s dream would crash and burn.

In that moment, everything simplified into a simple problem: escape or be caught.

That was easier said than done.

Cloud made a break to stand up, shaking all over and only half aware of his surroundings, but it was doomed to fail. Zack’s reflexes were too good for Cloud to beat him to the punch and his heart was too big to let someone in Cloud’s condition go without helping.

“Whoa there, come on, sit down,” Zack said, gently tugging Cloud back to sitting on the shower floor. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, sir, nothing at all—I ought to be going back to the barracks—”

“Like hell you are,” Zack said. “Not in your condition. Come on, I’ll walk you to the infirmary—”

“No!” Cloud blurted. “They can’t know, they’ll—”

“Ah,” Zack said, nodding slightly. “You’re a part of the SOLDIER program?”

Cloud nodded.

With a sigh, Zack said, “Well, it can’t be helped then.”

Just as Cloud thought he was about to leave, Zack sat across from him.

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

Cloud shifted uncomfortably. “I just—some quiet. It’ll pass on its own,” he muttered.

“Can do,” Zack said. He reached out slowly, giving Cloud time to react if he felt the need, and pulled Cloud into a hug, rubbing his back, shushing him quietly.

One by one, the symptoms fell away. When Cloud moved away, Zack following suit, he looked up to see the wolf.

“We should keep him,” it said; Cloud gave a weary smile.

Zack ruffled Cloud’s hair, beaming brightly at him.

“Now that the hard part’s over,” Zack said. “Who are you?”

“Cloud Strife, sir,” Cloud said, even his voice reflecting his exhaustion.

“Well then, Cloud Strife, I’m going to make some calls and get you out of class and training for today since, frankly, you look like hell. Sound good?”

Cloud nodded, relieved but hesitant. He watched quietly as Zack took out his PHS and began making calls about how he needed a cadet for a project and run into Cloud, making him the most convenient and best for the job. Cloud leaned back against the wall, his head tipped back against it. He promised himself that he’d just rest his eyes until Zack was done on the phone. Instead, he woke up hours later, tucked into a bed.

The wolf was curled next to him and, as Cloud slowly woke up, blinking the sleep from his eyes, it said, “We’re definitely keeping him.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cloud was still shaking of the last bits of sleep, stretching and yawning right until he realized what happened. He immediately froze.

“This is the part where you go find your superior and beg him to keep his mouth shut,” the wolf said, tone sounding about as tired as Cloud felt.

He was dressed in clothes that he was nearly swimming in and grabbed handfuls of pant legs so he wouldn’t trip as he bolted for the door, down the hallway, and finally came to a stop as he skidded around a corner. Zack Fair, the highest ranking SOLDIER he had ever spoken to, was laying on his couch, half-asleep from the late night infomercials playing in the background.

Unfortunately, Cloud didn’t account for SOLDIER hearing when he tried to tip toe to safety, the consequences of what had happened yesterday an issue he could handle tomorrow. Instead of fleeing successfully, he stepped on loose floorboard. The creak of the wood was enough to wake Zack up. The SOLDIER had immediately dropped to the floor in a crouch, hands raised to guard himself from the potential threat. Once he glanced around, taking stock of where he was, he slipped from his defensive crouch to standing. Zack grinned when he saw Cloud who still hadn’t moved from the creaky floorboard.

“Cloud, how are you feeling?” Zack said rounding the couch to head toward the kitchen.

“Uh, better, sir,” Cloud said, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. “You didn’t need to give me your bed though, sir; I would have been fine on the couch.” Cloud followed toward the kitchen.

“No way. The person with the hardest day gets the bed,” Zack said, glancing up at Cloud before returning to his task: making hot chocolate for them both. “From what I saw, you definitely won bed privileges.”

Cloud looked down, then away. The wolf nudged his hand in encouragement, yet Cloud still couldn’t find the nerve to carry on the conversation without prompting. The wolf huffed, but sat down next to Cloud as he accepted the mug of cocoa from Zack with a mumbled thanks. He cupped the mug, the warmth soothing against his hands and doubly so when he took a sip. Zack had leaned against the counter, watching Cloud blow on the mug to cool it down.

“So,” Zack started. “Does that sort of thing happen often?”

He didn’t need to elaborate what the “thing” in question was.

Cloud looked down at his mug and refused to raise his eyes as he said, “Not too often.”

Zack hummed in acknowledgement.

“So how did you manage to get passed the psych eval?”

Cloud shrugged and said, “I lied. A lot.”

Zack surprised them both with a laugh. “Who knew it would be that simple?”

Cloud smiled a little, nose still buried in his cocoa. “It was easier than I thought it would be.”

“Well as long as you don’t tell them how easy it was, I won’t,” Zack said with a grin.

Cloud glanced up from his mug to see Zack hop up, sitting on his countertop. The smile slipped from his face as he caught Cloud’s eyes, seriousness settling in around them.

“I won’t rat you out,” Zack said, “but only if you promise me you’ll come find me when something like this happens again, okay? You don’t have to cope by yourself.”

“No offense, sir, but why are you helping me?” Cloud said, tone heavy with hesitance.

“Because I came here dreaming of being a SOLDIER too. I won’t make it harder for you to get in when I could help achieve your dream. Even if it does sound corny as hell.”

Cloud looked confused, then affronted as Zack reached over and ruffled his hair and laughing at Cloud’s answering scowl.

“I mean it, Cloud,” he said after they both settled. “I want to help. Before you know it, we’ll be best friends.” Zack took a long drink of his cocoa before setting it down on the counter. “How about you catch me up on what’s happening with you and I make extra hot chocolate.”

Cloud’s lips twitched into a smile at his lighthearted tone. “I hope you have something to take notes with.”

Zack grinned in response. “We’ll just have to see what I have.”

Though Cloud, months later, still wasn’t sure why Zack had taken him under his wing, but the two became fast friends. Cloud had been honest with him upfront and Zack went out of his way to save Cloud from any situation that might trigger more symptoms or more episodes. When neither had missions, they scheduled Friday night as movie night, which mostly meant catching up and ended with the movie on mute as the two made up their own dialogue for the film, dissolving each into a laughing mess.

Frankly, it was the best Cloud could have ever hoped for. For the first time in his life, he had a close friend. He had someone he could speak to openly and honestly without fear of judgement. He had befriended someone of high enough authority that if and when emergencies happened, Zack could make all the right excuses for him so that he never faced consequences. He had someone watching his back. He had someone who he trusted enough to me sarcastic with; someone who’d laugh with him, not at him, when his jokes turned to friendly teasing turned into Cloud in a headlock and Zack ruffling his already messy hair. He finally had someone who could help walk him through episodes, keeping him grounded and calm until they successfully guided him back to reality.

The symptoms did not fade. The voices stayed, as did the bugs, the static, the warping walls and floor, but now he had someone other than the wolf to ease him through the worst of it. The wolf became less and less of a constant companion, not because it was unwanted, but that it was no longer the only place he could turn for help. Zack was a fast learner and picked up nuances in Cloud’s actions that no one else had found. As the months passed, Zack was able to read Cloud’s reactions the way the wolf did. It no longer shadowed all his steps, instead just stopping up the gaps when Zack was absent and he needed a friend to help him through it. Cloud no long had to ask for help from Zack, it was given to him without prompting. Zack’s unwavering support and friendship made Cloud more stable than he had been since that initial fall into the mako springs. Though he tried to explain how much it meant to him, Zack always smiled and waved it off with little more than a smug “I know.”

What neither of them expected was for Zack’s, arguably closest, friend to need their help.

“Listen, Spike, I know he scares you, but—”

“Scaring? That’s the understatement of the year. He’s terrifying, and besides, how could I help Sephiroth?”

“If you came with me you could find out.”

“No way.”

“Aw, buddy, what happened to all that hero worship—wait a second, are you blushing?”

“No, I—stop laughing, dammit! I just don’t see why I’m the best candidate for this. The second I tell him, he’s going to boot me out of the SOLDIER program!”

“No he won’t, and if he tries, I’ll just guilt him out of it.”

“Zack.”

“I know, I know, it’s just, well, you really are the best person to help on this one. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, Cloud, you know that.”

“… Five minutes. I’ll give it five minutes so you’ll see how this isn’t a great plan and then we’re leaving, alright?”

“Thank you! You’re the best, Cloud!”

“You bet I am. You owe me big for whatever way this crashes and burns.”

“It’ll be fine, you’ll see. Besides, you two have more in common than you think.”

“Pfft. Yeah, right. How about I finish this coffee and then we leave?”

“Aw, c’mon; you know how bad the coffee is, it’s only one step short of battery acid.”

“That’s not the point; it’s warm and it’s caffeinated.”

“… you have a point there.”

“I usually do.”

The elevator ride to the top floor where Sephiroth’s had his apartment was tense. Cloud spent the ride with a scowl on his face. He still had a bad case of hero worship, he knew that, but that was what made the prospect of what was to come so terrifying. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of his idol. He wasn’t sure how he was going to even get words out once they got there, anxiety having worked him into knots.

“You don’t have to worry so much, you know,” Zack said, still looking ahead of them at the elevator door. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll be right outside the door. All you have to do is call and I’ll be right there and I’ll talk him down.”

“Are you sure that’ll work?” Cloud asked, glancing up at Zack. “I saw him get mad once; he scared Heidegger so bad he tripped and fell down the stairs.”

“In fairness, Heidegger deserves worse.”

“That’s not the point, Zack,” Cloud said, looking up at Zack just as he looked down, locking eyes with each other. “How can you know for sure you’ll be able to fix it if it goes wrong?”

Zack smiled, though it was a rough, sharp-edged grin. “I had all of the Wutai War to learn how to talk him out of bad ideas. This will be a cinch.”

Cloud’s scowl turned into an unintentional pout as he turned to the elevator door, just as it was opening. “I really hope you’re right about that.”

The two stepped out of the elevator, Zack elbowing Cloud lightly in the ribs.

“Just trust me.”

“Do you know how often you get me into trouble after asking me to trust you?”

“Not the point,” Zack said, grinning and leading the way from the elevator.

“Are you sure?” Cloud said. “I’m pretty sure it is.”

They stopped at the only door in the hallway, Zack running his ID through the swipe, saying in a whisper, “Don’t worry about it. Nothing will go wrong.”

The door opened with a click before Cloud got a chance to reply. He bit his cheek nervously, watching Zack creep into the room.

“Seph?” he called, flipping on the lights. “You in here, Seph?”

The lights filled every corner in the room, not that it helped much; Sephiroth was nowhere to be seen.

“Zack, I told you to leave,” Sephiroth said, voice towing the line of carefully controlled anger.

“I did, and now I came back,” Zack said, waving Cloud into the empty. “I brought someone who can help.”

Sephiroth snorted. “For some reason, I doubt that.”

Zack didn’t get a chance to hear the comment as, the second he had finished speaking, he escaped through the main door, likely blocking anyone that tried to reach Sephiroth as much as he was trying to listening closely in the chance Cloud needed him.

Cloud bit his cheek and wrung his hands in silence. He took a few hesitant steps further inside. When he heard Sephiroth fall quiet, Cloud hesitated in the entry way.

Still wringing his shaking hands, Cloud stood stock still. The seconds passed, stretching past awkward, by the time he felt a warm, familiar weight nudge him forward.

“The sooner you start talking, the sooner you can leave,” the wolf said, nudging Cloud another step forward. “You can yell at Zack later.”

Cloud gave the wolf a scowl and a glare, but his hand did drop to his side, stopping his hand-wringing. Without thought, his hand went to running his fingers through its coat. He slipped his fingers through the wolf’s fur one more time, tightening them just enough that the wolf was able to lead him forward. Holding its fur was a comfort, one that was so familiar it was automatic, a thoughtless move for comfort and stability.

The wolf padded before him, the two looking under the gaps at the bottom of the closed doors they passed. When they reached a door that showed light peeping out under the door, Cloud stopped, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

“Go on,” the wolf said, voice a soft encouragement.

Cloud raised his hand, unsure if he should knock or just walk in. After thinking about it closer, he realized that walking in could end terribly.

Cloud knocked on the door.

Silence.

He knocked again.

Silence.

“No one’s getting any younger here, Cloud,” the wolf said.

Cloud took a deep breath and opened the door.

Just in time for Sephiroth to sweep everything from the top of his desk on to the floor, or in some cases, embedded into the wall.

“Gods damn it, Zack, how many times do I have to—.”

Cloud stared with wide eyes, first at the items that were scattered, then up to Sephiroth. He did so just in time to Sephiroth’s anger soften to guilt.

“I, uhm—I can come back another time? Sir.” Cloud said, one foot edging back to beat a hasty retreat the second he was given the option.

He watched Sephiroth regain control of himself, stand straight, and turned to face Cloud.

“I… apologize for my behavior,” he said, gesturing for Cloud to take one of the seats across the desk Sephiroth was standing behind. Cloud took his seat with hesitation as Sephiroth, cool and collected once more, returned to his chair, folding his hands on the desk.

“So you’re the cadet Zack has told me about? Cloud…”

“Strife, sir. Cloud Strife.”

Sephiroth hummed in acknowledgement. “Did Zack tell you why he sent you to me?”

Cloud shifted in his seat.

“He, uhm, he seems to think that I might be able to, uhm, help you, sir.”

“Help me with what, Cadet Strife?”

He released and tightened and released the hold he had on the wolf’s coat absently—a nervous tic.

“Well, sir, he didn’t really tell me much, nothing too particular, just that you—he thinks you, uhm, Might be seeing things?”

Cloud flinched as Sephiroth’s gaze turned sharp.

“Want me to start praying for you now?” the wolf said. Cloud bumped his hand against his muzzle in chastisement.

Cloud, over the years, had become very skilled in not displaying so much as a hint of where his reality diverged from everyone else’s. He had it down to an art, really. But everyone’s human and humans make mistakes from time to time. Mistakes like moving toward dead air in front of a man who won a war largely due to his ability to put pieces together to create his strategies. The second Cloud saw Sephiroth’s gaze flicker to where the wolf sat, then back up to Cloud, he knew he was done for.

“Maybe I really should start praying. You might be toast here, kid, considering the mood he’s in,” the wolf said, shifting back to sit on its haunches.

“So Zack sent someone with experience in the matter to, what, walk me through it? I can handle it just fine on my own, cadet.”

Cloud shifted again. Damn but it was hard to meet Sephiroth’s eyes.

“May I talk plainly, sir?

Sephiroth’s expression went stony, but he waved his hand for Cloud to continue.

“I’ve been dealing with this sort of thing for a decade now,” Cloud said, forcing his voice steady despite how he wanted to turn and run from the intensity of Sephiroth’s gaze. “I had to cope on my own and I wouldn’t recommend it—and I was just a kid in a backwater town. I just figure that, with everything you deal with every day, it might help you adjust quicker. Not talking about it makes it harder.”

“So your recommendation is what amounts to talk therapy with a cadet?”

“A cadet that sneaked into the SOLDIER program with a clean bill of mental health while hallucinating through the interview.”

Sephiroth’s eyebrows raised, nearly looking like he was impressed.

“You can make it on your own, sir—if I did it there’s no doubt you could, but do you really have the time to figure out how to get by?” Cloud said, speaking in earnest now. “But talking to someone about it helps. It’s like getting rid of a weight you didn’t know you were carrying. If you don’t want to talk to me, I understand, but talking to Zack might help. Talking to him has helped me.”

Sephiroth stared back at Cloud. He stared, refusing to move his eyes an inch, the intensity never falling as Cloud struggled not to look away. The moment stretched and stretched until it passed awkward.

“Earlier,” Sephiroth said, speaking slowly, almost hesitantly, mind almost distant in thought. “You were opening and closed in your hand. Why?”

“Ever since this all started, there was this big wolf, different enough from the ones back home that I knew it wasn’t local. I didn’t think I was hallucinating until it started to talk,” Cloud explained, glancing down at the wolf that dipped its head in encouragement. “It goes away sometimes, more so now that I have Zack to talk to about it with, but until I came to Midgar, it was always with me. It has its own personality, though it doesn’t know any more than I do. We’re—best friends, I guess? You can only go through so much together before you end up close to someone.”

The moment he stopped talking, the silence stretched again, as Sephiroth studied him. Now that it had been mentioned, Cloud started to pet the wolf now that Sephiroth knew it existed. Multiple times, Sephiroth’s gaze dropped to Cloud’s hand before rising back to meet his eyes.

“What else happens for you?” Sephiroth said, hesitant for the first time Cloud had ever even heard of. Cloud blinked in surprise before shifting in his seat.

“Depends, how many details do you want?”

“As many as you can give me.”

True to his word, Cloud began to talk. He started from the beginning, from Nibelheim, surviving with the help of a nonexistent wolf. It took at least half an hour to go through all of his symptoms, all that had happened; Cloud really wasn’t sure how long he spent talking to Sephiroth, but by the time he was finished, Sephiroth seemed almost relaxed, certainly calmer at the very least.

“That’s about it, General, sir,” Cloud said, shifting to sitting up straight.

“Thank you, Strife. I think,” he said, hesitancy returning, “that you may have been right about talking about this.”

“I’m glad I could help, sir.”

“If you’re comfortable, I will arrange weekly meetings for the two of us, hopefully it will help us both,” Sephiroth said, digging in a drawer for a handful of papers and forms.

“Absolutely, sir,” Cloud said as Sephiroth passed him forms and a pen. Cloud began signing the pages he was handed.

“Thank you for speaking first,” Sephiroth said, watching Cloud sign the pages. “What happens here will remain private for the both of us—the psych evaluation will be skipped when you take the exams and I trust you will keep this between us.”

“Of course, sir,” he said, handing back the pages. “Would you think about talking yourself next time? There’s no rush, of course, but I think it might help, sir.”

“I will consider it. You proved yourself trustworthy by coming here, risking your place in SOLDIER, as well as sharing your experiences first. If you ever need anything, my door is open to you,” Sephiroth said, rising from his chair in time with Cloud.

“Strife?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re free to drop the ‘sir’ in privacy.”

Cloud blinked in surprise.

“Are you sure, si—”

“Strife.”

“Right, sorry. I’ll be bye next week then?”

“I will see you then. Until then,” Sephiroth said, tone dipping into amusement, lips almost twitching up into a smile, “Send in Zack on your way out? It seems we have to have a discussion about privacy.”

Cloud grinned.

“If you lecture him too long, he’s going to be late to training.”

“What a shame,” Sephiroth said, attempting and failing to hide the amusement in his tone. “It’s almost like he should think before he acts.”

“Good luck with that one, si—”

“Strife.”

“Sorry, si—dammit.”

As Cloud walked out of the apartment, there was no doubt about the smile on Sephiroth’s face.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t exactly a good week. Okay, it wasn’t at all a good week. On a scale of 1 being awful and 10 being fantastic, Cloud may have just found his way into the negatives.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened—not by a long shot. Cloud could handle it given time, but the cadet program barely left time to eat and sleep. It took days to dig himself out of this kind of hole, at least a week to get back on his feet. That was a lot of time, and time was the last thing he had.

Zack had made him promise that, if things got bad, Cloud would tell him. Cloud and Sephiroth made a similar pact: if things went downhill, they would at least be in contact with someone and not trying to cope on their own.

Cloud knew the promises he made, and he didn’t want to be someone who lied to friends. However, he wasn’t above using a loophole or two. Cloud had to use his judgement to decide what counted as things “going bad,” and his definition might be just a little skewed. He had more practice dealing with this than Zack and Sephiroth; he knew what his limits were and how badly things would have to be for him to seek their help. It wasn’t that they couldn’t do anything about it or that talking about it was no use. He knew that, but at this point, he was starting to consider calling one of them.

The week had been a test of his ability to cope. It started off small; slapping off bugs that didn’t exist, being doubly careful with how he walked when the floor and walls moved, seeing a dark silhouette out of the corner of his eye that disappeared when he turned to look. No one else would notice that the bug wasn’t there unless they examined his arm, which no one ever thought of doing. He had years and years of practice holding himself together when the world warped around him. Though they occasionally surprised him were more of a nuisance than a danger. This was familiar. This was how it had been in Nibelheim, his practice paying off during those first few days.

The unfamiliarity came as the symptoms got worse and worse. Feeling hands around his neck putting just enough pressure to make it difficult to breathe. The voices began to address him instead of their usual, white noise conversations. Running into bathrooms to attempt to find some peace as he tripped into a panic attack. His mood yo-yoing from completely numb to feeling too much. The edges of reality crinkled and tore, making him lose track of what was real and what wasn’t.

This was a bombardment that Cloud hadn’t faced since Nibelheim. This was starting to stretch to a place that Cloud could no longer cope. The only reason he had made it so far was the reappearance of the wolf as he slipped down into a familiar danger. When he couldn’t fall asleep out of fear that someone would kill him in his sleep, the wolf hummed the old song his mother would sing for him as a child. It lay beside him in bed, a comforting weight and warmth that made it possible to finally fall asleep. It corrected him when his lie was beginning to slip: stand straighter, walk faster, look ahead not at the floor, stop bouncing his leg so much. It helped. It was what got him through those first few days, but as time passed and he was getting worse, not better, the wolf became more practical.

“Kid, you need to call one of them,” the wolf whispered to him after the others in his barracks had fallen asleep.

“But—”

“No buts.”

“I can handle this, we’ve done it before.”

“No, Cloud. Nothing this bad, definitely not anything that got so bad so fast.”

“I don’t want t—”

“I know you don’t want to be an inconvenience, but they wouldn’t have offered if they weren’t okay with it.”

“Still, I’ve been managing, I can keep managing.”

“You almost broke your arm training today because it was bad enough you couldn’t focus. You’re not managing, Cloud. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.

Cloud glared at the wolf in the darkness, huffing when he caved and looked away first.

“I hate it when you’re right,” he said.

“I know you do,” the wolf answered. “Now get up and call Zack.”

Cloud grumbled his disapproval, but made his way carefully from the top bunk to the floor. PHS in hand, Cloud exited the barracks and, after easing the door shut. His grumbling immediately stopped as he turned, his face inches away from another. Its face was bloodstained, teeth a matching red when it bared its teeth, a knife held loosely in one hand.

“Found you,” it breathed and Cloud had immediately recognized the voice as one of the voices in his head, the one that whispered encouragement to punch superiors, jump off from the top of ShinRa tower, to punch a wall until his wrist was broken and his knuckles bloody. In facing one of the more frightening voices in his head, Cloud did what anyone would do.

Body check it out of the way and sprint for safety.

The wolf loped alongside Cloud, easily outpacing the shambling horror.

“Cloud,” the wolf said. “Cloud,” it insisted.

His only answer was Cloud’s heavy breathing and fear in his eyes.

“Cloud,” it tried again. “It’s not real, you don’t have to—”

Cloud skidded around a corner, making a break for the staircase. If he ran far enough, if he at least left the building, whatever it was would surely be gone, wouldn’t it?

The wolf got into Cloud’s path. Every time Cloud attempted to dip around it, the wolf jumped in front of him, barring his path.

The wolf nudged him with its nose and looked pointedly at the door to their left.

Cloud ducked inside, the wolf’s tail almost getting caught in the door. Looking around, he saw rows of desks and chairs. He almost dived for it in his reach for the chair, he was so desperate. He jammed it under the door and then backed away until his back hit the wall. He slid down, wrapping his hands around his knees, breath still coming in racing pants.

“Zack,” the wolf insisted, nudging the pocket he had tucked it into before the running began. Cloud nodded face and repeatedly, every part of him still racing from the adrenalin. It took him a few tries to free his PHS from his pocket. His hands were still shaking from fear and he could barely read the contact names he had saved into his PHS. The second he saw Zack’s number, he called, waiting with his knuckles white from clutching at his knee with his free hand.

“Hello?” Zack said, voice rough and slow and heavy with sleep.

“Z-Zack,” Cloud breathed into the PHS.

“Cloud, is that you?”

“Yeah,” Cloud said, tightening his grip on his PHS, voice tight and shaking.

Cloud could hear the exact moment Zack fully woke up, concern snapping him from sleep.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Cloud took a few deep breaths before managing to say, “No. I’m—I’m in some classroom by the barracks. Can you—could you—please.”

“I’m on my way now. You just hold in there, okay? I’m going to find you, don’t you worry.”

Cloud dropped his PHS, not even bothering to end the call. He wrapped both his arms tight around his legs, buried his face in his knees, and tried and failed to stop hyperventilating. The wolf shuffled to lean up against him.

In its best calming, soothing tone, the wolf began to count off.

“One, two, three, four… four, three, two one. Good, again.”

The wolf continued walking him through breathing, it even got Cloud’s breath mostly even by the time Zack threw open the door, the chair he had put under the handle broken into matchsticks.

“Cloud?” he called, stepping in to look for him.

“Here, Zack,” Cloud muttered, voice too low for anyone unenhanced to hear; gods bless SOLDIER hearing.

“Cloud,” he said, the rush of relief as he ran over to him almost palpable. He knelt down in front of Cloud, one hand outstretched, wanting to help but unsure if touch would make things worse.

“Remember, let him help you,” the wolf said, nudging Cloud’s side.

Through the week building up to this episode, Cloud figured he could handle it himself. Even now, if the wolf stayed and he spent the night hanging on by his fingernails, he would make it through.

All it took was one look at Zack’s face to realize he was definitely, definitely wrong.

“Come here,” Zack said, reaching out both arms, scooped Cloud up off the floor and left the classroom with him safe in Zack’s arms. Cloud shifted in his arms, hiding his face against Zack’s shirt. It helped block seeing things that weren’t there. It was, at least, a start. The voices heckled and the hands around his throat remained, but beneath it all, there was the sound of the wolf’s claws clicking against the floor, keeping pace with Zack who was running through the halls, hoping to get Cloud somewhere safe before it got worse.

It almost worked, if the visual hadn’t melted into tactile.

As Zack was pulling out his keycard to get into his apartment, Cloud suddenly felt like he had been dipped in an ant hill. He began squirming, whining quietly, trying to brush away bugs that weren’t there and weren’t going away.

“Shit, Cloud, come on,” Zack said, struggling to keep his hold on the cadet while also getting the door open. “It’ll be okay, just—oh godsdammit.” He got the door open just before Cloud began to move and it had shut while he was focused on his grip. It took a few more choice swear words and a lot of fumbling, but Zack eventually got the door open. He used his elbow to flip the light switch and, quick as he could, Zack put Cloud on the sofa. Gently as he could, he held Cloud in place, offering encouragement and insisting that everything would be alright.

The two did the only thing they could think of: riding it out. Zack refused to leave his side, but luckily he was able to keep a handle on Cloud while also reaching into his pocket for his PHS, fumbling through dialing but successfully began the call.

“Zack, it’s the middle of the night, this had better not be another drunken insistence—”

“Seph, it’s Cloud,” Zack interrupted. “It’s—it’s pretty bad. I’ve got him in my apartment, but—”

“I’m on my way,” Sephiroth said, immediately ending the call.

Zack hung up and focused again on Cloud. He was still swatting at the nonexistent bugs, but at much lower rate than before, which was a good enough sign for Zack that it was passing.

“Cloud?” Zack tried, and this time, finally saw Cloud’s eyes flick towards him, Zack immediately smiled, glad for the first bit of improvement he had seen from the blond.

Cloud refused to make eye contact, instead his eyes stayed low, watching as he flicked and swatted at the last remaining bugs.

“Zack, I’m sorry, I should have—”

“No, Spike, you never have to apologize to me about this. This is what we agreed on, remember?” Zack said as Cloud shifted from laying to sitting on the couch, the wolf curled at his feet but its eyes were attentive.

“I just—I didn’t think it was bad enough that I ought to drag you into it,” Cloud mumbled.

Zack sat next to Cloud, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him.

“You didn’t drag me into anything, you know I’m always here to help,” Zack said, rubbing soothing circles against Cloud’s back. Cloud dropped his head, his forehead landing on Zack’s shoulder. “How is it? Any better?”

“Some parts are better, others worse,” Cloud mumbled into Zack’s shoulder.

“Wanna talk about it?” Zack offered, but felt Cloud shake his head.

“When it’s over?” he asked.

“Sure. I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

Cloud stayed in that same position as Zack hummed to himself, Cloud unwinding just barely at the sound. The wolf, still at his feet, counted him through breathing. Nothing necessarily stopped, but it stopped things from getting worse.

Cloud felt the tremors come back just as the whirring sound of Zack’s door coming unlocked and the door nearly flung open and slammed shut again. Zack made eye contact with him and jerked his head toward the couch the two were sitting on. Sephiroth nodded and rounded the corner to where Zack was holding Cloud.

“Cloud?” Sephiroth said, voice just above a whisper.

Cloud immediately sat up, a look of pure relief on his face as Sephiroth sat on the coffee table across from the couch. Sephiroth held out his hands and Cloud let go of Zack to take a hold of them.

It wasn’t that Zack didn’t help, just that Sephiroth helped more. It was one thing for a friend to listen to his problems, another for someone who shared a lived experience, someone who could understand without him fumbling to explain. Cloud had been there to support and listen to what was happening to Sephiroth; the trust between them leading them to become fast friends. Sephiroth, new to coping with symptoms, had needed Cloud’s help more often. The upside of working through and familiarizing Sephiroth with coping mechanisms and the hallucinations themselves, was that they knew exactly how to comfort each other. While Zack was able to help, it was like applying a band-aid to a wound that required stitches. Luckily enough, Zack had been understanding of the situation; he was simply happy that they had each other to help when things turned to issues he had no experience with. Much like the blond cadet shaking in his boots on Zack’s couch.

“Scale of 1-10?” Sephiroth asked, using a scale they had long since established: 1 meant awful, 10 meant perfectly fine.

“Negatives,” Cloud said; Sephiroth squeezed his hands briefly. Their conversation took place in whispers and the quiet hush of the late night.

“Auditory, visual, or tactile?”

“All three.”

“Anything unusual?”

“One of the voices—the loudmoth, I—I saw him, I recognized his voice. He was covered in blood. As soon as I saw him I ran.”

Sephiroth paused his questioning to look at Zack who nodded and went to the kitchen. Sephiroth squeezed Cloud’s hands one more time, scooting closer to him by sitting at the edge of the coffee table.

“How long has this been going on, Cloud?” Sephiroth asked, his tone soft.

“A week? Maybe two?” Cloud guessed, staring down at their hands. “It hasn’t been like this all that time; it was only tonight.” 

“But you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Sephiroth insisted. The look on his face melted into concern. “Why didn’t you call either of us?”

“I just—I didn’t want to be—”

Sephiroth released one of his hands, gently taking hold of Cloud’s chin, raising it so they met eye to eye.

“We’ve gone over this, Cloud,” he said, a gentle reprimand. “You aren’t a burden, not to me, and not to Zack.”

“I know, I just, I don’t know. Have a hard time believing it,” Cloud answered.

Sephiroth reached out with one hand, taking a hold on the back of Cloud’s neck. He pulled him forward, their foreheads meeting in the middle.

“Start believing,” he said. “I’m not leaving you until you’re better.”

“Seph—”

“You do the same with me, Cloud. Let me be the one to worry for once.”

Cloud pursed his lips but didn’t pull back.

“We’ll write a list of your symptoms and cross them out as they end,” Sephiroth said. “I’ll clear both our schedules for tomorrow and the day after and the day after that—whatever it takes, and no feeling like a burden either, understood?”

The militaristic tone brought the smallest of smile to Cloud’s face.

“Yes, sir, General, sir,” Cloud said, and despite the way Sephiroth rolled his eyes, Cloud could see him start to react just a bit with his joking. Hopefully, it was a good sign.

The two leaned apart again, but Cloud snagged Sephiroth’s free hand, something he could cling to if anything turned rough.

“Start from the top and explain what happened as you go,” Sephiroth said.

“Good, I’m just in time for the good stuff,” Zack said, coming into the living room. He had three precariously perched mugs of hot chocolate, handing each their mug. Cloud let go of Sephiroth’s hands and instead curled them around the mug for warmth, blowing across the top of the mug to cool it so he wouldn’t burn his tongue.

Sephiroth set his mug aside and as he stood, grabbing the pad of sticky notes and a pen. When he returned, he tossed the notes and pen to Zack who caught them one-handed. Sephiroth took up his mug again, scooting still closer to Cloud. Their knees bumped and more than once, Cloud had stopped speaking, holding Sephiroth’s hands until he regained some semblance of calm before speaking again. Zack almost felt jealous, but seeing them together, he couldn’t imagine things differently. Though the two had met recently, they had clicked quickly. Zack had stopped seeing Cloud as friend a long time ago; the two were the brothers neither ever had. Despite that connection, what Sephiroth and Cloud built together was spectacular. Their incredible closeness could lead to a lifelong, caring relationship.

“Zack? You’re taking notes tonight. Cloud, whenever you’re ready,” Sephiroth said, watching Zack put aside his mug and take up the pen and paper. Cloud took a few deep breaths.

“Remember Cloud, you’re safe here. I would never let anything hurt you,” Sephiroth insisted quietly. “You’re safe.”

Cloud took one final, deep breath and then began explaining how the night turned so wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

 

               "Cloud!" Zack called, skidding around the corner. "Cloud, where--"

               "Here, Zack!" Cloud called. Zack came flying into the room, nearly knocking Cloud over. "What's wrong?"

               "It's Sephiroth," he said, "He hasn't eaten, he hasn't had anything to drink--I don't think he's even slept yet."

               Cloud frowned as he crossed to the door and headed into the hallway, Zack following at his heels.

               "He promised me he would," Cloud said, sounding as hesitant as he was concerned. "You know him, he always keeps his word."

               "Well he isn't right now. He wouldn't let me get out two words before telling me to leave and threatening to throw me out of the room with force if I didn't. He's never been good about sharing what he's feeling, or if something's wrong, I just--it might help more if you tried, considering--"

               "Considering that we're both psychotic or because you expect me to kiss sense into him?" Cloud said, covering his worry with humor--a bad habit he picked up from Zack.

               "Both?" Zack said. "Sometimes boyfriend trumps best friend. Besides, what could it hurt?"

               Cloud sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. Their relationship developed out of the utter trust they put in one another, born from a mutual illness and the absolute support they gave to one another. Their understanding of one another, the trust that one would coax the other back to reality. If you asked either of them when the relationship started, neither would be able to give an answer. The closeness, the trust, the care they had for each other slipped over the line from platonic to romantic at some point. Neither knew when the feelings began, but it became real when, months ago, Cloud walked Sephiroth back into reality. He had been left shaken, afraid, so very convinced that what he experienced was real that Cloud reached out to embrace him in an attempt to hold him together. Sephiroth's forehead had fallen to rest on Cloud's shoulder; neither were sure how long they had sat like that, Cloud holding Sephiroth until he worked himself back to calmness. Once his breath had steadied, each had started to pull away, until Sephiroth paused, took Cloud's face between his palms, and kissed him. It knocked the breath out of Cloud, to the point where Sephiroth began to apologize before Cloud returned the favor.

               Cloud could only hope that their relationship would be enough to anchor Sephiroth, make it easier to call him back to the real world.

               "I just hope it'll be enough," Cloud muttered. They approached the stairwell that led to the basement Sephiroth had locked himself in. If something down there had kicked this off, he would insist they stay somewhere other than Shinra's mansion for everyone's sake.

               Cloud stopped before the door and turned to face Zack who pulled up beside him.

               "I think it might work better if I try by myself," he said, tone still hesitant.

               Zack frowned, and for a second Cloud thought he would press the issue. Instead, all Zack did was sigh and say, "You're probably right. I'll wait up here, okay?"

               Cloud offered a fleeting smile. "Thanks," he said before turning and beginning to hurry down the twisting stairs to the basement.

               As he reached the book-lined room that he had last seen Sephiroth in, he knocked gently on the door.

               "Go _away_ , Fair," Sephiroth snapped through the closed door. Cloud eased it open and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

               "How many times to I have to tell you, I--Cloud?" he said, losing track of his reprimand when he turned and saw Cloud just inside the room. Cloud was clearly unsure; his shoulders were up at his ears, he wrung his hands.

               It all faded as Sephiroth's ire melted away. He lost the rage he'd held in an instant, replaced with what appeared to be guilt.

               "You scared Zack pretty bad," Cloud said. He clenched his hands into fists and let them go over and over until the tension left.

               "Good," Sephiroth snapped, turning away from Cloud. "He wouldn't listen."

               "He was just worried. We both are," Cloud said, a gentle reprimand. He watched as Sephiroth clenched his hands into fists.

               "Maybe you should be," Sephiroth said, tone bitter as it was quiet. Cloud walked over, reaching out to touch Sephiroth's shoulder. He flinched at the contact, stepping further from Cloud.

               "Of you? Never," Cloud said.

               " _Especially_ you," Sephiroth said, whirling to face Cloud, throwing the book in his hands past Cloud and into the wall behind him.

               "Why me?" Cloud said, stepping closer to Sephiroth, who just matched his step backwards. "Seph," he said, tone turning pleading. "Tell me what's happening. We promised to always do that, remember?"

               The briefest flicker of guilt crossed Sephiroth's face. "Why should I keep to it? I'm not human, why should I keep to human customs?"

               "Seph," Cloud said quietly, walking toward Sephiroth. This time, Sephiroth only bowed his head, allowing Cloud to step right up to him. Cloud reached up to touch Sephiroth's cheek, finally drawing his gaze. "You're human, just like Zack is," he insisted. "Just like I am."

               "No," Sephiroth said, gaze turning intense. He reached out and cupped Cloud's face, saying, "We're nothing alike, that's clear now."

               Cloud laid his hand over the hand on his cheek. "We are alike, and even if we weren't, I love every part of you."

               "You won't," Sephiroth insisted, shaking his head and taking a step backward. "You need to leave, before I ruin you too."

               Cloud stepped forward, grabbing one of Sephiroth's hands before he could retract it. "You won't," Cloud said, repeating his words back to him.

               "I will," Sephiroth said, watching as Cloud laced their fingers together. "Sooner or later, I will, and I don't know that I could bear it."

               "You won't," Cloud repeated. He reached up, grabbing the back of Sephiroth's neck and, standing on his toes to reach, kissed him. It brought him to a pause, uncertainty flickered across his face until it landed in his furrowed brow.

               Sephiroth attempted to take another step backwards, but Cloud tightened his hold on his hand, and he couldn't quite bring himself to tear away from the contanct.

               "You don't understand," he said, voice dropping to an almost fearful whisper. "These books, they're all--they're about me. It all matches up, Cloud; all the experiments, the years in and out of the labs. They were making me, piece by piece."

               "So what?" Cloud said, taking a step forward until they were inches apart, his neck craned to look up at him. Sephiroth's hair swung down as he tilted his head to meet Cloud's eyes, curtaining them off from the rest of the world. "I don't know about the books, but I don't need to. I know _you_. Not about the labs, the experiments you won't tell me about because you think I'd leave. Not that, but I know that you love rocky road ice cream. I know that you like soap operas. You braid your hair before going to bed so it stays out of the way. You're a horrible cook and you always burn pancakes when you try to make them before I get out of bed in the morning. The corner of your eyes wrinkle when you laugh too hard. You--"

               "Enough, Cloud," Sephiroth said, tightening his hand around Cloud's in spite of himself. "What does any of that have to do with being human?"

               "Because that's what makes people human. Not what others have tried to make you, but the little things that make people who they are. I haven't read these books, and I don't know all you know, but I do know humanity when I see it. It's in all the little things, and those I _do_ know plenty about."

               Cloud could see the wheels turning in Sephiroth's head, trying to break down what he had said, twist into something that made sense to him. It was a battle he clearly wasn't doing well with.

               "Come on," Cloud said, grabbing both of his hands and gently pushing him. Sephiroth, unsure of what Cloud's plan was, stepped back until he bumped into the desk that had been at the back of the book-line walls. Cloud nudged him with his knee, and when Sephiroth almost began to protest, Cloud beat him to the punch by lightly grabbing his shoulders and doing his best to gently manhandle the larger man to the chair sitting behind the desk. With another small shove, Sephiroth took the hint and sat in the chair, Cloud following suit by hopping up and sitting on the desk. He slipped his hands down Sephiroth's arms to his hands, which he held, squeezing them lightly.

               "We're going to do this like we always do," Cloud insisted, lacing their fingers together.

               "Cloud, I don't think--"

               "You're right, you're not thinking straight," Cloud agreed with a small smile. "But both of us are used to not thinking straight. And how do we always get through it?"

               "We talk about it," Sephiroth offered, beginning to frown.

               "That's right, we talk about it. We're each other's support system and I will never, _never_ leave you to work through this by yourself. Just what we agreed on, right?"

               "Right," Sephiroth grumbled, sounding like a petulant child. Cloud smiled and squeezed his hands.

               "Scale of 1-10?"

               "I'm not sure. Seven?"

               "Okay, that's a good start. We've done 10s before, haven't we?" Cloud said.

               Sephiroth paused before letting out a weary sigh and nodding.

               "We'll do this too," Cloud said, scooting closer so their knees knocked against each other. "Auditory, visual, tactile?"

               "Auditory. There's a chance of delusion, depending."

               "We'll figure that out when we get there. What are you hearing?" Cloud said.

               Sephiroth looked over Cloud's shoulder, refusing to make eye contact. Despite how this had become routine for the two of them, Sephiroth struggled with talking about symptoms. Cloud had long since learned that the best way to help Sephiroth was to let him set the pace.

               Sephiroth closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to be calm enough to speak properly.

               "Ever since we arrived in Nibelheim," Sephiroth started, sounding hesitant. "I've heard a woman's voice. She calls me her son, tells me I'm not truly human and that they're beneath me. She said I am the last Ancient. She wants to ruin the planet and use its empty husk to travel the cosmos and destroy. She is the star-eater and if I'm her son, I must be too."

               When Sephiroth finished, he chanced a glance up at Cloud who was looking down at him with understanding. Cloud hopped down from the desk, unlacing their fingers as he went. Moving slowly to give Sephiroth an out if he needed it, Cloud climbed into his lap, straddling it to face Sephiroth.

               Cloud waited until Sephiroth raised his eyes to meet his. He looked up at Sephiroth with encouragement across his face. He took both of Sephiroth's hands and laced their fingers again.

               "What else has she told you?"

               Sephiroth hesitated longer than he had yet. He stared determinedly at some point over Cloud's shoulder. Just as Cloud was about to talk and snap him out of it, he spoke.

               "That she is here in the town. That I should go to her. That I should kill anyone who stands in my way," Sephiroth said in a dead tone. Finally, he looked up at Cloud. "That I should kill Zack. That I should kill _you_. That you'd only stand in my way and make me weaker."

               Cloud let go of Sephiroth's hands and held his face between his hands.

               "You wouldn't do any of those things," Cloud insisted. "I trust you. I trust that you would never hurt me." Cloud pulled Sephiroth's face down toward him. As their foreheads touched, Cloud uttered, "I'm yours, Sephiroth. I love you, and I trust you with everything that I am."

               "Cloud--" he whispered, bringing his arms up to encircle Cloud and closing his eyes.

               "I trust you. You've had spells like this, all full of hate and hurt. You've never so much as raised a hand to me. This will pass, just like everything else did."

               Cloud tilted his head up, pulled Sephiroth's down, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

               "Cloud, I--"

               "No," Cloud said, silencing Sephiroth with another kiss.

               " _Cloud_."

               "Nope." One kiss.

               "I--"

               "Doesn't matter." Another.

               "But--"

               "Still no." A third.

               "Cadet--"

               "No pulling rank in private." Fourth.

               "But you _are--_ "

               "No I'm not. What I _can_ do is keep this up all day." Fifth.

               Sephiroth gave a very put upon sigh, but there was good natured humor behind his weary protests.

               Cloud pressed their foreheads together again, saying, "Is she any quieter?"

               "Very," Sephiroth said, initiating a kiss that drew on far longer that Cloud's had.

               When they leaned away, out of breath, hair mussed, the look they exchanged was fond, their smiles all lazy familiarity. They leaned close again, Sephiroth pulling Cloud against his chest. He buried his face in Cloud's messy hair while Cloud rested his head against Sephiroth's chest.

               "Promise me you'll come talk to me if she comes back?"

               "Of course. I promise."

               "Thank you," Cloud said in a whisper. His arms tightened around Sephiroth who responded in kind. Despite the fact that they were in Nibelheim, sitting in the circle of Sephiroth's arms felt like home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth develops some new symptoms after Nibelheim

               Sephiroth, admittedly, never really expected that everything would suddenly clear up and he’d magically spend the rest of his life firmly planted in the reality the rest of the world experienced. The only hope for that was medication, which was a long shot at best, and he was more than a little wary about attempting that path. He couldn’t afford to be waylaid and out of commission, which was a definite possibility during the standard trial-and-error attempts to find correct mental health medication. Side effects could make things worse mentally, in some cases incapacitate him physically. From his research, it was by no means unheard of for it to take three years or longer to find the correct combination of different drugs and dosages. It was also not unheard of for symptoms to persist despite medication, even if they were diminished by it. It could prevent him from doing even his office work, much less active missions.  
               Even if there were no complications to medicinal treatment, he still wasn’t sure he would consent. The infirmary was technically a subset of the Science Department. He was under no pretenses that if he sought medical treatment, there was so much as a hope of his case not going immediately to Hojo, who was easily the last person he trusted to play around with his head.  
Not to mention, the last thing he needed was word of his condition to get out among the rest of Shinra. It was a thought that had given him literal nightmares before, and probably would again. It was also the reason even therapy was off the table. He had heard of a few doctors who claimed they could talk away psychosis by uncovering deep seated issues, and Sephiroth knew perfectly well that he had more than a few of those, but he remained skeptical. If it was that simple, there would be more success stories from applying that method. It seemed like snake oil to him, and decidedly not worth the risk.  
               Coping would never exactly be easy, but there was familiarity to it by now. He knew what most commonly triggered episodes and avoided those things. He knew what his most common symptoms were, and while they were often disturbing if not terrifying, at least the fear of the unknown was gone. He knew what coping mechanisms worked for him and what ones tended to make things worse. He knew who made up his support system, what symptoms their help could realistically soothe and when all they could do was provide him company so he didn’t feel so alone, stranded in the sea of a strange reality. It had been a few years since his psychosis developed, and though things were still far from perfect, there had certainly been improvement.  
               That being said, it was uncommon at this point for entirely new symptoms to arise. Sometimes his hallucinations varied, but they tended to remain in the same vein. He might go from hearing a “mother” telling him he was superhuman to believing it without prompting, but it had been quite a while since something largely divorced from his other symptoms arose. That only made it more frustrating when it did happen again.  
               Spending his entire life as a part of Shinra had many consequences and side effects, but they weren’t all particularly obvious. Perhaps for him more than anyone else in the company, there had always been a distinct lack of privacy. Being raised a science experiment made that unavoidable; being a high profile, highly valued tool for the company meant that it never quite went away. That being said, he never fully understood paranoia, though he knew it was a common symptom of psychosis—Cloud had his own struggles with it. There were no conspiracy theories, because most of the supposed acts that made up such theories were real for him. He really was under surveillance near constantly. There were people out to get him. He did have sensitive information that the company would not hesitate to kill him over, if he gave any hint of wanting to share it with outside parties. These sort of things were a simple fact of life for him.  
Most of the frantic attempts to avoid surveillance and persecution that came with such paranoia were not so frenetic for him as much as commonplace. He knew where all exits to rooms were. He researched people that attempted to get close to him personally. He routinely searched his apartment and office for bugs. The list went on, and the company wasn’t happy that he was so diligent about undermining their attempts at keeping him under their thumb, but there was little they could do about it. If they approached him on the matter, they would have to admit that they took such actions in the first place, which would be a violation of the privacy he was technically granted on paper. He tolerated it because it was a simple part of life for him, not to mention that he wasn’t willing to take the company head on over something he could handle himself.  
               That being said, when paranoia did start raising its head, he wasn’t entirely sure what it was, much less what to do about it. Conspiracy theories about governments and Shinra will left him completely unfazed, but as time went, a strange fear of the supernatural began to develop, which was as frustrating as it was bizarre. He was a man of science, believing little that he couldn’t experience with his own senses (even though he couldn’t always rely on those senses). He was, admittedly, familiar with a great many monsters, but he had yet to find one that posed a true threat. Such creatures were as familiar as Shinra’s surveillance, and arguably less of a concern, since he had no reason to fear something that barely counted as an obstacle.  
At first, he suspected he had simply been spending too much time around Cloud. His partner had been raised in a superstitious town by a mother so superstitious that even the other townspeople thought her odd. He believed whole-heartedly in mysticism that had nothing to do with common monsters and materia. He prayed to and left offerings to gods that, for the most part, Sephiroth had never even heard of. He had a thousand little tips and tricks to appease or ward off magical creatures whose existence simply had no fact to support it.  
               Sephiroth didn’t believe in gods, or the ghosts of ancestors, or fae or wendingos or banshees. He didn’t believe, but he understood how deeply ingrained that belief was in Cloud, and was more than happy to leave him to his strange practices, even if he had no interest in participating himself. From time to time, he inquired about Cloud’s superstitions. Sometimes it was because he wanted to know why Cloud felt the need to hang a strand of garlic bulbs by the window, not realizing that it had anything to do with his folklore. Sometimes it was because Cloud clearly wanted to discuss it, not to convince him, but just that he wanted a willing ear to listen without judgement. Sometimes it was because of pure curiosity; this was clearly important to Cloud and, if it mattered so much to him, he wanted to understand as much as he could, even if he didn’t believe. Regardless of the reason, the more time he spent with Cloud, the more proficient he became in mysticism.  
Looking back, he blamed it wholeheartedly on the repetitious hallucinations and delusions that began in Nibelheim. Voices were nothing new, but ones that discussed anything supernatural were. He never believed in gods, but when the delusions got to him, it was impossible to convince him he wasn’t one. When the voices pushed him into those delusions, making them return more frequently, he learned how to play by different rules when they happened. No, it wasn’t possible to convince him he wasn’t a god, but he could choose what kind of god he wanted to be. His hallucinatory mother pushed for violence and bloodshed, and his superhuman strength and battle prowess made him inclined to think that perhaps that was the path he was destined to take, his divine responsibility. Cloud reminded him that there was another path, that maybe his skills were meant to protect and defend, not slaughter. Cloud’s version sat better with him, though admittedly idealistic, but it didn’t stir the same self-loathing and revulsion his “mother’s” ideas did.  
               It was new, but he and Cloud handled it together, the way they always did. His brain forced a new symptom on him, and they found a way to turn it on its head to make it comfortable until it passed. But finding that loophole with his god delusion had come easily. When his newfound superstition began to expand, things became more difficult.  
It unnerved him far more than he was willing to admit. He was a largely fearless person because he had yet to come across a creature that made him properly afraid for his life. But those were physical beings, monsters that he could touch, that were guaranteed to be harmed by sword or magic or fist. He had no idea how to protect himself from the incorporeal, and for the first time, he discovered something that he didn’t know how to defend himself against. It taught him fear.  
               Sephiroth and Cloud were, generally, very good about relying on each other. Their romantic relationship aside, there was a bond that was formed by sharing the same hellish experiences, particularly when neither knew anyone else who could relate. They both knew they would garner no judgment from Zack, the only other person either trusted enough to confide in, but that didn’t erase the hesitance to admit to what they knew was strange or prevent the shame they couldn’t erase while discussing the matter. It wasn’t as if Cloud and Sephiroth’s hallucinations and delusions matched up line for line, but there were some similarities, and beyond that, an immense comfort in knowing that even if they didn’t experience exactly the same things, the other could relate. It was difficult to be ashamed when admitting to a symptom when the other person could trade experiences they found just as embarrassing. There was a camaraderie built from common ground that was, arguably, as strong or stronger than what could be built fighting side by side on a battlefield. After all, this too was a battlefield, just one without swords and guns and materia.  
               In general, Sephiroth had incredible luck with his episodes, or at least he liked to consider it luck. While he certainly experienced various symptoms in public, none had been debilitating. When he had severe episodes, ones that forced his entire world to a screeching halt, they always began when he was alone. He considered his options and, aware that this wasn’t the case for everyone suffering from a similar illness, considered it his good fortune. He failed to consider that being alone with his thoughts was dangerous, that his mind spiraled further and further away from reality without someone else to ground him. It wasn’t constant, it wasn’t a guarantee that as soon as he was alone, everything would deteriorate. But had he realized that his brain responded very negatively to loneliness, that his thoughts could twist so severely that his mind seemed to implode, he would have known to seek out help immediately when things took a turn for the worst. That wasn’t to say he refused to reach out—relying on Cloud in such moments had been where their relationship had begun, after all. Instead, he seemed to linger in denial as things began. Even once he was forced to admit there was a problem, his pride made him intent to try and get through it on his own until it was too late and the matter was out of hand.  
               He was used to the hallucinations spiraling out of control this way; if he were to have a severe episode, it was usually this type. After Nibelheim, the delusions grew more serious, until it was an equal toss-up as to which type of episode he would have. Even after the paranoia had begun, it had started so small that he never even considered that it could get to be so intense. He had become accustomed to the hyper-sensitivity and suspicion lingering as his day went, had even become accustomed to it happening relatively frequently, but when it really seized hold of his thoughts and refused to let go, it took him completely by surprise.  
               He had come to dread working in his public office, greatly preferring the private one located in his apartment. The office isolated him enough that his mind got away from him at times, but it was a small bubble of privacy situated in the middle of a very accessible area. He was at an impasse: he couldn’t refuse to work in public without raising questions, and those were questions he couldn’t answer. While the relative seclusion made episodes a possibility, they weren’t quite common enough that he was willing to risk the potential fallout.  
That being said, when he felt the paranoia creeping up, he still swore under his breath. His fingers stilled at his keyboard and his stare glazed over, focusing less on sight and more on an internal check. The air seemed to grow stale and thick, his lungs seeming to work harder with oncoming anxiety. His hands balled into impotent fists as fear started spreading through him, travelling from vein to vein in an icy trickle from his chest. Slowly, he reached out, gently lowered his laptop screen, and placed his hand over his eyes, adamantly ignoring the tremor he felt there.  
His brain hadn’t yet settled on what exactly it was afraid of, but he knew the feeling well enough now to understand where this was going. Without a word, he stood, crossed to the door, and locked it. He kept his eyes trained perfectly on the lock as his goal, refusing to glance around in a useless attempt at finding whatever it was his mind was sure he was sensing. With that objective completed, he turned around, went back to his desk, and hesitated.  
               Distantly, very distantly now, he knew nothing he thought he felt in the room was real. It was as empty as it always was, he was the only entity there, and he had nothing to fear from empty air. He knew this, yes, but it was slowly becoming harder and harder to remember, until it was only a distant fact, tucked away in a corner of his mind, largely forgotten.  
As his awareness that this was only an active symptom faded, his paranoia grew. He was certain, now, that there was something in the room with him, the only questions were what it was and what he would do about it. Though he didn’t intend to, his eyes flickered around the room, looking for anything out of place or a visual on what he was sensing. He wasn’t surprised when it was futile, but he certainly wasn’t happy about it.  
               He didn’t have very many options, but his best solution was to pull his chair from his desk and settle it back into a corner, putting a wall at his back and giving him a clear view of the entire room. It was the best he could do, but if this was some sort of supernatural entity, walls would mean very little to it. His thoughts flickered over possibilities, trying to pin down what might be in the room with him based on previous episodes. His mind was convinced that each creature he had come across felt different in the room, from ghosts to fae to incorporeal, monstrous creatures he couldn’t identify.  
               He had been seated in the corner for less than a minute when a visual quickly made it clear what he was dealing with. A face popped out from the wood panel on his desk, a familiar visage that made him grimace on sight. The skin was pale and taut, eyes little more than dark, gaping holes, mouth a yawning maw that stretched grotesquely. It was a face as unwelcome as it was familiar.  
His paranoia seemed to choose creatures from scattered lore, never sticking to one particular region. Considering how extensively he traveled, it was impossible for him to not pick up on the legends of places he was staying. He couldn’t quite remember if the talk of angels and demons had come from Mideel or Fort Condor, but it had been something he had dismissed with a snort at the time he heard it. With the latest developments in his mental health, it had become more of a nightmare than he had ever imagined it would be. The thought of an entity he couldn’t fight off that could take possession of his body, make him prisoner inside his own skin with no say in his words or actions, was horrifying. He had always been the type of person to keep himself very regulated and carefully under control at all times. He did not speak before thinking, he did not act rashly. Even considering the helplessness involved made his stomach sink.  
               In honesty, the bigger surprise was that it took him seeing the face for him to pin down what creature it was. The face of the demon that haunted him from time to time was always the same, but the feeling of it should have been familiar enough to draw quicker recognition. The air always grew thick, as if a dense fog rolled into the room. It felt as if someone had come to stand beside him, just out of eyesight, but no matter where he looked, there was no one there, until that damned face appeared again. The room seemed to grow dark at the edges, as if the demon was pulling in shadows to clog their surroundings. He heard whispers, too faint to discern any individual words, but rhythmic, like some sort of chant.  
               Arguably the worst part of the situation was that there was simply nothing to be done about it. All he could do was wait it out, and that would only get worse the longer this went on. Already his eyes were roving over the room constantly, desperately searching for a hint that the demon may actually possess him, as if there was anything he could do if that were to happen. Every time the face did appear, he was only wound tighter and tighter, his breath coming in shallow little pulls, shoulders at his ears, hands clutching the arms of his chair hard enough that the metal creaked.  
Sephiroth was not a man accustomed to fear. He didn’t think it suited him, but what he thought counted for little in this situation. For all his wits and strength and skill, he was as helpless as any other man would be against a creature with no weaknesses to exploit.  
               More than once, he pried the fingers of one hand off the arm of his chair, trying to force himself to reach for his PHS. This was the kind of situation when he called Cloud. He knew his boyfriend was likely in class or drills at this hour, but he could reach him if he needed to. Cloud’s schedule was programmed into the calendar on his PHS; it would take very little work to find out where the blond was and call the CO or teacher he was with. He wouldn’t even need an excuse to pull Cloud out of class, all it would take was saying, “I need to speak with Strife—send him to my office,” and the cavalry would be on the way.  
               Yet each time, before he could convince himself to make the call, a movement or sound would call his attention, his fingers would clamp down again, and he’d forget his PHS entirely. Then, when the moments stretched and nothing pulled his attention, he continued to not make the call, though he cursed himself for it repeatedly.  
He had nothing to be ashamed of with Cloud. His boyfriend had been in this position many, many times. Even if prompted, he couldn’t say how much time he’d spent holding Cloud in an attempt at comfort while the other shook himself to pieces. He hated it, but he was more than familiar with the way terror looked on Cloud’s face. There was nothing wrong with asking for reciprocal aid.  
But, logic be damned, there was something wrong with it. He was supposed to be the strong one; he always had been. With the development of this paranoia, he had become better at letting Cloud see him in these moments of fear, but it was a fierce struggle every time.  
               Sephiroth argued himself around in long, faltering circles that were constantly interrupted by stimuli from the “demon,” which snatched his attention away time and again. Every time he decided to make the call, something would happen, the fear would climb up his throat and glue his lips together. By the time it passed, he had to convince himself all over again.  
He couldn’t say how long he spent like that, terrified in the corner of his office, hyper-aware of things that weren’t even there, unable to reach out for help. What he did know was that, by the time the paranoia subsided, night had fallen.  
               When the fear passed, he didn’t pull himself up out of his chair and continue on his day. In fact, he couldn’t have said when the terror faded if he was asked. Somewhere along the line, paranoia had faded into dissociation. His body was sitting there in a fog, his mind far separated from his flesh, hovering above at a safe distance. He hadn’t even been aware of lapsing into dissociation until he was pulled out of it by his ringing PHS.  
               The vibrations in his pocket pulled him forcefully back to present. He peeled his stiff fingers one by one from where they had pressed little indentations into the metal of the arms of his chair and, attempting to force his eyes to focus, fished his PHS from his pocket.  
               “Sephiroth speaking,” he answered, coughing in the middle of the greeting. His voice was low and rough from disuse and the strain fear had forced onto his vocal chords.  
               “Seph, you okay? You sound weird,” Cloud asked, and the last of the tension fell from every line of Sephiroth’s body. He slumped back into his chair, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and shut his eyes.  
               “Of course,” he lied. “I may have gone too long without actually speaking again.” Not a lie, but not the truth Cloud deserved.  
               “I told you talking to your secretary every now and then would be a good idea,” Cloud reminded. “Even if you don’t really like him.”  
               “I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered, though both knew he wouldn’t follow through.  
               “Well, I just got out of class, are we still on for dinner tonight?”  
               Sephiroth hesitated the barest fraction of a second as he made his decision. He should tell Cloud what happened. There was no real need to hide it, and his boyfriend would want to know. At the same time, he knew it would raise concern, and was it worth that, if there was nothing Cloud could do to make the situation better, now that it had passed?  
               Best not to worry him.  
               “I’d prefer to stay in tonight, if that’s alright. I’d still be happy to spend the evening with you, though.”  
               He intentionally left off the why, and, as he expected, Cloud filled in the gaps for him.  
               “Long day, huh?” he guessed. It wasn’t technically wrong. “Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll see you soon?”  
               “Yes,” Sephiroth answered, relieved that Cloud hadn’t decided to press the matter.  
               “Bye then!”  
               “Goodbye.”  
               Sephiroth closed his phone slowly and lowered it. He rested his hand on his leg, looking at the PHS cradled in his palm.  
               There were a lot of things about today that could have gone better. That he could have handled better. But the situation was behind him now, and all that was left was damage control. Cloud couldn’t be upset about the episode if he didn’t know about it, and the strain of the event would fade after a calm evening spent with the one he loved.  
               It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.


End file.
